


summer rain

by spxcewvlker



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Fanfiction, Feels, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Road Trips, Romance, Slow Burn, shitload of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spxcewvlker/pseuds/spxcewvlker
Summary: "Show me your hands," he asked quietly, his blue eyes narrowing."But... why?" She asked, puzzled."I just... I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there to hold you," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheeks.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't be more thankful for lusterrdust who agreed to be my beta reader, please check out her amazing stories!

 

 

> _”You brought me sunshine_
> 
> _When I only saw rain._
> 
>  
> 
> _You brought me laughter_
> 
> _When I only felt pain.“_
> 
>  
> 
> _–unknown_

  

_The so-called charismatic, once wholesome town of Riverdale, was taken further into despair after the unexpected happened in the iconic chock'lit shoppe. That morning, many hearts were broken, and many souls destroyed, leaving the entirety of the town buried underneath a new sort of twisted darkness, one differing from the darkness Jason Blossom's mysterious murder had brought upon town._

_That morning, Fred Andrews was shot, and carried with him the last bit of Riverdale's innocence. Darkness had won, marked by an act of violence that was anything but random._

 

—~—

 

" _It's just a jacket, Betty, it means nothing!_ "

 

" _Jug, those people are criminals!_ "

 

They talked until the early hours of the morning. They did nothing but that — exchanging their fears and their worries.

 

They talked about what they expected from the other, and tried to come to an agreement. But even whispered promises and stolen kisses weren't enough for the blonde girl to understand. She left the trailer as hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and ran home where she crumbled down on her bed. She was devastated, and so scared that this was it, this was the end of what they had. That he'd leave down a darker path, and never come back to her.

 

Jughead stared at the now closed door of his dad's newly steady trailer, the one he'd made sure to clean up just in case his father would come back home, — _just in case_.

 

He wanted to hold on to the little bit of hope remaining in the corner of his mind, but it was such a tricky thing to do. To still hope that his father would come back and that they'd be just like family, and that maybe, _hopefully_ , his mother and Jellybean would come back home as well. But somehow, in another corner of his mind, he just _knew_ that none of this would happen, and that he had once again been abandoned to his own fate. The girl he loved was gone, his mother had rejected him, and his father was in jail for God knew how long.

 

He plopped down on the sofa next to the sleeping sheep dog, whose little body covered the leather jacket that had been given to him several hours ago. His heart clenched as he remembered his departure with the blonde girl he loved more than his own self, a tear rolling down his cheek — exactly like a dagger piercing his skin.

 

He was all alone in this place he once used to call _home_. The idea of what could have been a home, what was supposed to have been one, was now just an abandoned trailer, falling apart. In the end, he was exactly the same. Abandoned and falling to pieces, left alone under the pouring rain and darkness of this seemingly endless night. The night that changed everything.

 

It was then he got the call.

 

—~—

 

" _Jughead, — it's me, it's your mother. Listen, I, um_..."

 

"M-Mom?" The raven-haired boy mumbled, rather confused as to where he was exactly, and why his mother was calling so early in the morning. Several seconds later, he remembered having fallen asleep on the couch next to the curled dog and the leather jacket. "Is... is everything alright?"

 

" _Um, no... it's about your sister, the doctors — they just called us, they, um... t-they found something, Jughead_..."

 

His heart dropped immediately, anxiety bubbling down his stomach. "Mom, what happened?"

 

" _She was diagnosed with something bad_..." there was a pause, and soon, he started to hear the quiet sobs of her mother. " _Look... y-you have to come, okay? J-Just come, please_."

 

When she hung up, Jughead Jones felt the whole world shatter in front of his eyes, darkness trying to win over. He put his phone next to him before staring off in the distance, his fingers curling in fists. He honestly just wanted to break down, to cry until he'd have no more tears. But instead, he got up and started ravaging around the trailer, breaking things and throwing his father's clothes on the floor, as though a wire snapped within him. He screamed as if trying to be louder than the pain, and the sheep dog jerked off the couch to hide somewhere else. And then, the scream turned into a sob, and he let himself fall down on his knees, shoving his face in his palms. Everything was too much to deal with and he feared to lose his last bit of hope.

 

—~—

 

A few hours later, he packed his backpack with the few belongings he had involuntarily scattered around the trailer, diverse thoughts going around his mind. He thought about what his father had told him several hours ago, who weighed him of responsibilities he didn't think he could take care of.

 

_"Jughead, listen to me. I'm more innocent than I am guilty, but I've done some... some stupid things, some bad things. And come what may, I have to answer for my part of it, you understand? I don't know what's gonna happen when this goes to trial... but you need to be there. For your mom, for Jellybean."_

 

He answered that he'd do his best, and hell, he was going to. And now, his family needed him more than ever.

 

So he went to the Serpents, taking Hot Dog with him. He had no money to pay for a bus ticket, and if there was one way for him to obtain money without getting in trouble, it was with them; he was convinced that they'd know what to do.

 

He went to the ancient Twilight drive-in, even though he wasn't exactly sure if the Serpents would be there at this hour of the night — turned out the same man who gave him the jacket now resided in the deserted canteen, the only shack on the territory that had not been destroyed yet.

 

"The name's Jeff," the man informed Jughead as he shoved a fuming cigarette between his lips. "Your father, he uh, he made me promise I'd keep an eye on you if something were ever to happen to him. Told me the only way you'd be safe in this town is to get you to join the Serpents."

 

Jughead stared at the man with furrowed brows, questions building up in his mind. His fingers gripped tightly around the sleeves of his own leather jacket, and his eyes, — which held a certain kind of darkness — briefly trailed to the floor.

 

"I'm going to Toledo." He announced hoarsely, surprising himself with the tone of his voice. "Jellybean, my little sister, she's..." but he couldn't finish his sentence.

 

His cheeks flushed red as he recalled his mother's words, her trembling voice... and the memories brought him back to his eight years old self, to the night when his father came back home after two days of being nowhere to be found. He was drunk, — Jughead had never seen him as much intoxicated, — and violent. His mother, Gladys, had begged him to calm down, that he was scaring the children. But instead of listening, FP threw an empty bottle of beer to the wall, which exploded in billion of pieces. One of them hit Jellybean's cheek, and that was it, the triggering event. The same night, his mother left with his sister, leaving him behind with his father with the only excuse that she needed to get Jellybean to the hospital as soon as possible. But she never came back for him, for her own son. And that, well, it hurt him so bad. To be left behind as though he meant nothing to his own mother, as though he _were_ nothing.

 

But he couldn't forget the way her voice trembled, just like when she'd called him earlier. That's how he knew something was bad, _very_ bad. Everything felt like it was too much — he could barely keep his emotions inside like he used to be so good at.

 

"I don't..." he began, wiping the single tear that had managed to roll down his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't have... I don't have any money for a bus ticket."

 

The man nodded slowly, just as if he understood what the boy was insinuating. He told Jughead to wait there, and came back a few seconds later with some money. "Your father is a good man, Jughead. I'd do anything for him and his family. Sure thing is, anything else you need, you ask. Money isn't an issue here."

 

Jughead nodded to the man and thanked him after taking the money. He had never think of his father as a "good man", but this man seemed to believe so and somehow deep within him, Jughead wanted to learn how to trust his dad as well. He turned around to leave when the man spoke again.

 

"I doubt they'll let the dog on the bus with you, kid."

 

Right. With everything happening, Jughead had forgotten about the sheep dog in a leash he'd taken along with him, intending to leave him with the Serpents until he'd be back in town. He turned back to give the man, Jeff, the leash, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Thank you."

 

Jeff smiled softly, and wished him good luck.

 

Jughead had always been scared of the Serpents, and sure thing is if he wouldn't have been in this situation, the thought to seek for their help would never even have crossed his mind. But somehow, he appeared to be wrong about them. At least for some of them. Sure, he wouldn't have stepped into _The Whyte Wyrm_ all by himself, but this man, Jeff, was a living proof that the gang wasn't all bad. The Serpents seemed to care about each other in some ways, exactly like a family would. He didn't know if it was because they were scared of his father or if they were just genuinely kind, but the simple gesture to offer him a part in the gang warmed his heart a little. Somehow, he felt like he wasn't alone.

 

Before leaving, he left a brief note to the foster family that took him in, saying he was going to be with his mother for several weeks. He ended the letter with the use of the words "family issues", knowing they'd hopefully understand what he meant by that, and that they wouldn't fight to try and get him back in Riverdale.

 

He did the same for Archie, but remained very brief to avoid any kind of unwanted emotions as he wrote the note. He thought he was done crying.

 

But he appeared to be wrong, very wrong, when he thought about Betty. Many emotions went through him as he wrote her letter, having to start over many time due to his tears messing the ink. He hated himself so much and just wanted to hold her against him, to feel her heartbeat against his. He couldn't have handled saying goodbye face to face, but he wanted to see her one last time. That's when he remembered the ladder hidden in her backyard, and made up a quick plan before walking out of the trailer and locking the doors behind him.

 

—~—

 

He stopped by her house on his way to the bus station. He obviously wasn't going to let her know he was there, but he _had_ to see her. After quietly climbing up her window and making sure nobody was watching, he peeked through her window, where he spotted her on her bed with Polly. Betty's cheeks were covered of tears as her sister gently rubbed her back, holding her close. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but simply at the sight, new tears formed in his eyes and soon, he could barely see a thing. He hated himself so much for doing this to her, he wished he could've been the one comforting her. It was his job after all, wasn't it? But there he was, sneaking on the roof of her house, spying on her through a window. When it got too hard to watch, Jughead pulled the blueish envelope from his pocket where he had placed the letter in, and reached closer to the window, praying the girls wouldn't hear him as he carefully slipped it through the thin slot separating the window from the sill.

 

Betty must have heard something, because she then swiftly turned her head to look toward the window, and their eyes met for a brief instant. Panic settled in him when it happened and he quickly climbed down, dashing off to the street. She called for him to come back, but he ignored it.

 

Jughead thought that leaving Betty Cooper had been the hardest thing he's had to do, but if only he would've known what was yet to come, he would probably have ranked it as the second hardest thing he's ever done.

 

—~—

 

She stood in front of her window with bloodshot eyes, her fingers trembling as she unconsciously crumbled the piece of paper in her hands. The sudden gesture, though familiar, turned into something impulsive more than thoughtful, but it's only when she felt the liquid pouring from her palms that she realized what she had truly been doing. Panicking, she dropped the crumpled letter on the bench nearby her window and hurried to the bathroom, immediately cleaning her hands. The soap felt like daggers enlarging her cuts but she could easily ignore the pain by simply thinking about the words that had been written on the now crumbled sheet of paper. Her heart ached at the thought, but she rubbed her wounds harder, trying to find a balance between physical and emotional pain.

 

That night, Betty did not sleep. Polly stayed with her a good amount of time until falling asleep, her hands covering her swollen stomach. But the youngest blonde didn't blame her sister — she had already done more than enough by staying up to make sure she would've been okay, and for that Betty was infinitely grateful.

 

Polly eventually woke up and got back to her room after Betty ensured her she was going to be alright. She had been lying obviously, but the truth was too much to handle. That's how she found herself standing by the window, digging her nails in her palms. The piece of paper from Jughead had been stained by her own blood, but she didn't care.

 

The crumbled letter, on which were engraved words of departure;

_Dear Betty,_

_By the time you'll be reading this, I will probably be gone, heading off to Toledo. Now, I don't except you to understand why I'm doing this, but believe me when I say everything will be explained to you one day._

_I'll miss Riverdale, everything about it. But most importantly, I'll miss you, Betty. Hell, I already miss you._

_I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me. I will come back eventually, but for now I need to do this. I wish you didn't have to find out by a simple letter, but it was better off this way._

_I'm sorry._

_With love, J. Jones_

 

Later, as she laid down in the middle of her bed with the lights of her room closed, she started thinking again. About the past few months, about Jason and Polly, and then, about Jughead and his letter. It was so brief, so vague, and she just wished he could've trusted her enough to talk about it with her. If only she had been more attentive and understanding back in the trailer... she probably would have been lying with him right at this moment, staying up all night to talk about nothing and everything. Her fingers curled in fists but she stopped once she felt the bandages wrapping her palms, closing her eyes to try and stop her tears.

 

She wasn't sure if sleep eventually found her, but she knew at some point all that was in her mind was overwhelming darkness.

 

And she somehow just wanted to let it out.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the month it's taken me to update... I've just been kinda on a writer's block. anyways, hope you enjoy! xx

 

> ”our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.“
> 
>  
> 
> –percy bysshe shelley 

 

 

 

Jughead wasn't really sure what to expect when the bus drove into the bus station and parked in its restricted area.

 

He hadn't charged his phone in probably twenty-four hours, so obviously the battery didn't last very long on his way to Toledo. He'd called his mother before leaving to let her know when exactly he'd get there, and he remembered mentioning he'd take the 6 AM bus. He knew it took about two hours to get to Toledo from Riverdale, so when he got off the bus and entered the station, he wasn't surprised to see it was already 8 AM. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he didn't know exactly where his mother lived, nor if she was going to pick him up. And as Jeff, the Serpent, only gave him enough money to pay for a bus ticket, he found himself not having enough to even use a payphone. Which meant he had no way to find out what was going to happen next. The previous events had unfolded so quickly, and he barely got any time to plan his last-minute trip.

 

So he was rather surprised when his eyes landed on the old man stepping toward him. His face somehow seemed familiar, but he didn't quite remember from where he could've known him, — nor when — until his mind took him back to a few years ago, when he'd opened the first letter Jellybean had sent him, after years of silence. He'd assumed his mother was the one to blame, but he didn't put too much thought into it; he didn't want to be holding a grudge against her. But he remembered perfectly the picture his little sister had joint with her letter — a portrait of her with their grandparents, whom he hadn't seen in years.

 

"Hi, Forsythe." There was a pause before the old man continued, and Jughead tried to ignore the frustrated feeling he got every time someone called him by his real name. "By the look you're giving me, I doubt you remember who I am... last time I saw you, you were barely 8 years old, and JB was just a baby..."

 

"You're... my grandfather, aren't you?"

 

The old man smiled weakly before looking down. "You can call me Albert if you'd rather, I won't be offended." There was another pause, a little bit longer than the first one, and Jughead sensed this one to be slightly awkward. "Your mother... she asked me to pick you up."

 

"I figured," Jughead answered, keeping his favourite stern expression on. Only the few people close to his heart knew that to befriend Jughead Jones, you needed to gain his trust.

 

And even though, _technically_ , this man was his grandfather, it hadn't been long enough since he met him, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could trust him yet.

 

The old man, whom Jughead had recently learned to call Albert, gave him another smile before showing him the way to the car waiting for them outside.

 

Jughead didn't speak on their way to the house, yet he wasn't sure if it was just because he had nothing to say, or if it was because Albert didn't know how to stop talking.

 

And as much as he wanted to listen to his grandfather, he was exhausted, and he missed Betty terribly. He wasn't sure why he was thinking about her right now, but he really did, and he knew if she was there with him she'd know what to say, what to do.

 

She always did.

 

"— your mother is exhausted, and your grandmother and I are getting older as we speak; she needs help with your sister and all the chemotherapy appointments, Forsythe–"

 

"I go by Jughead, now." He sighed, though he hadn't connected the dots quite yet. He retained the word chemotherapy, but everything was so fuzzy that he didn't associate it with anything — until he did. By the time Albert glanced at him, his face went blank and suddenly he'd forgotten how to breathe.

 

"Gladys didn't tell you?" The old man asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows as he observed his grandson's reaction.

 

But Jughead couldn't answer. How could he, when he couldn't even breathe? How didn't he think about it before, when his mother mentioned 'diagnosed' and 'something really bad'?

 

He felt his whole world fall apart during the rest of the ride.

 

 

—~—

 

 

His grandmother appeared to be an older version of his mother. She barely looked at him or even acknowledged his presence.

 

The first words that came out of her mouth when he saw her for the first time in years were something like " _you show up now after she calls you in tears, but where have you been the past few years when your mother needed you? You're exactly like your father._ "

 

He didn't want to admit it, but he was hurt. Yet somehow, he was thankful for his grandfather, who didn't seem to completely hate him — _yet_.

 

Even though she seemed to despise him, the next thing she told him was that Gladys, who had taken the day off, took Jellybean to the hospital for a daily chemotherapy appointment.

 

After a quick tour of the house, Albert took him to the attic to get blankets, in which he was going to sleep for the next few undetermined amount of months.

 

In all honesty, Jughead had no idea how long he was going to stay in Toledo. He was doing it for the sake of his sister, but if it weren't for her, there was no way in hell he would've stayed in this house any longer. And he had the feeling that once his mother would get back from the hospital, things would only get worse.

 

When his grandfather took him to the attic, he decided to find an empty spot he could adopt in case things got ugly. He also noticed different shoe boxes stacked one on top of another, and his grandfather told him that they were pictures taken by Eva, whom Jughead learned to be his grandmother's name.

 

Gladys came home a few hours later with a sleeping Jellybean in her arms. Jughead felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight and tried to get a closer look until Eva intercepted.

 

"I'll put her to bed, the poor child is exhausted." The old woman said, and Jughead was almost certain she wasn't letting him see his sister on purpose.

 

It wasn't until later that he and his mother finally stood in front of each other. She looked at him with glassy eyes, and he wasn't sure what to do or what to say. He hadn't seen her in years, and he noticed the wrinkles on her forehead, and the few white hairs dispersed all throughout her scalp.

 

In all of a sudden, he was in her arms. She held him too tight, but he didn't mind, — he was in his mother's arms, and he could almost feel the love that was poured from her arms. She sobbed quietly into his shirt, as though pouring everything into him, but she apologised as soon as she pulled away.

 

"You've grown so much, Jughead." Gladys told him, tucking a loose piece of hair back in his beanie. And then she smiled faintly, tears in her eyes. "You still wear it."

 

He knew she was talking about the crown shaped beanie she'd made him for his eighth birthday. It was slightly too huge for his head back then, but as the years went by, it gradually started to fit him.

 

Trying to hold back tears, he nodded slowly, keeping his eyes down. He wished the moment would never end, but when Eva stepped back in the room, Gladys let go of him, and Jughead swore he saw a glint of fear in her eyes.

 

He finally saw the invisible emprise his grandmother had on his mother, and that's when it hit him. It explained why, when he called a few days ago to ask if he could crash in, his own mother rejected him. It explained why he'd only just learned about Jellybean's health. It explained _a lot_ of things.

 

When Gladys went to sleep, his grandmother took him aside, her grey eyes almost sending him glares. "She only called you because she was having a terrible night. But my daughter doesn't need you to take care of her, or of anything else in this house! The last thing she needs is to have you in the way, you're just a burden to her." She spat her words and tightened the grip her fingers had found around his wrist.

 

"Your daughter, as you call her, is my _own_ mother. And I have as many rights to be here, — if so even more than you do." Jughead answered, attempting to free his arms from her grip, but instead, she squeezed it tighter.

 

"You don't belong here, _Forsythe_." She growled, waiting several seconds before letting go of his wrist.

 

When she finally left the room, Jughead stared down to his wrist, where the imprint of her fingers could still be seen. He fought the tears and sat down on the couch, which his grandfather had turned into a makeshift bed for him. As he laid down that night, he couldn't help but think about what his grandmother had told him.

 

_The last thing she needs is to have you in the way, you're just a burden to her._

 

 

—~—

 

 

The day after, he was woken up by Jellybean early in the morning after she screamed his name excitedly.

 

He was so excited to see her that he didn't notice the empty spots of hair on her scalp, nor the gigantic eye bags under her hazel eyes. She jumped into his arms as soon as he sat up, joyful giggles escaping from her lips as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

 

"God, — _JB_." He whispered in her neck and held her close to his chest, feeling tears building up in his eyes. For once in many years, he didn't care to let them fall down his cheeks. When she pulled away to look at him, he gave her a smile and held her shoulders tightly. "Wow... look at you, you've grown so much..."

 

"Juggie, are you _crying_?" She asked, and Jughead assumed she noticed his red eyes.

 

He couldn't help but chuckled at her sudden remark, wiping the tears from his own cheeks. "It's because..." he swallowed, trying to not break down in front of her. "I'm _so_ happy to see you, JB..."

 

"I'm happy to see you too, Juggie. Mom kept telling me how you were busy with school, which explained why you couldn't come and visit us, but I _knew_ it was a lie, and... _ouch_..."

 

"Jelly? Hey, you okay?" Jughead asked concernedly, his eyes not leaving her face when she started rubbing the back of her head and tears began to fill her eyes. He knew something was wrong, he just didn't know _what_ and it was killing him.

 

"M-mommy..." she whispered faintly, and Jughead caught her in his arms just when she was about to collapse.

 

It didn't take long for Eva and Gladys to run to her side, snatching the little girl from his arms and rushing to the nearest bathroom.

 

Jughead immediately stood from his bed and put his beanie back on his head, worry growing in his eyes.

 

His grandfather chose the moment to fill him in with Jellybean's current health. He told him everything he knew, about the tumour in her brain, the degree of her cancer, and what there was to expect for the next couple of months. He also explained that sometimes she had some sort of seizures, or she would faint and vomit, but that they're normal things for someone in her shoes.

 

Jughead wanted to break down when Albert mentioned her diagnosed life expectancy. The doctors gave her maximum one year if the chemotherapy didn't work, and Jughead tried to imagine his life without Jellybean in it. He'd never really believed in anything spiritual watching over them, but this time he was praying to the God he'd heard about so many time, and he hoped more than anything this God was real.

 

The next few days went by incredibly slow, and Jughead spent most of his time with his grandfather. He tried to help, but Eva wouldn't let him go anywhere near Jellybean, and his mother wasn't saying anything to help him. He was aware of the way his grandmother saw him, except she wouldn't give him the chance to prove her wrong.

 

 

—~—

 

 

One morning, when Gladys left for work and his grandmother went out to take Jellybean to the hospital, Jughead decided he was going to do something to help.

 

And on the same night, as they all sat around the dinner table, he announced them that he'd found a job at the nearest coffee shop.

 

" _Thank God_ , at least now you'll be useful," Eva answered as she served mashed potatoes in her own plate, passing the bowl to Gladys, who sat right across from her.

 

His mother seemed to ignore her comment as she took the bowl of mashed potatoes. "That's good, Jughead. I'm glad you've found something to do around here, I know that you're missing school and that you must be missing your life in Riverdale terribly, but I just want you to know that I–"

 

"Gladys, hand me the meat, will you?" Eva interrupted, barely even caring about the conversation that was going on.

 

By now, Jughead had learned to let go of situations like those. His grandmother was one terrible woman, but at least he didn't have to pay for his food or to even stay in this house... until Eva spoke again.

 

"Well now that you're going to earn some money, I suppose you could pay for your stay." She said, her piercing grey eyes freezing his skin. Then, she glanced to his mother as though waiting for her approval. "What do you think, Gladys?"

 

Gladys had remained rather silent for the entirety of the meal, so she seemed quite surprised when her opinion was required. "Um..." she looked over to her son, but then back at Eva, as though she was drawn to please her own mother. "Yes, I suppose that's a good deal your grandmother just had there, right Jughead?"

 

He wanted to get up and scream, but he knew that it was not going to make things any better. So instead, he nodded slowly, shoving a bite in his mouth to make sure he wouldn't say anything stupid. He hated to see his mother being talked around that way by his grandmother, but he had no power in this house, and he reminded himself that he was doing this for Jellybean.

 

 _It'll get better_ , he told himself. When he glanced to his side, he surprised Jellybean staring at him and ended up winking at her playfully.

 

 

—~—

 

 

He didn't think his life could have gotten any worse until one afternoon, his mother came into the lounge, her cell phone in hands.

 

"A certain... Joy Anderson called, saying she was the social worker in charge of your file." She paused, eyeing him with furrowed brows. "I explained her the situation but... she mentioned that if your choice is to stay here regardless of the school year, you'll need to attend summer school."

 

Jughead frowned at his mother's words. "Summer school?" It wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he decided to come to Toledo, but it was only then that he realised all the consequences his sudden decision brought upon him.

 

But he was doing it for his sister's sake, and she was more than worth it. So he didn't really care.

 

 

—~—

 

 

Betty was woken up by her mother who sat on her bed, a stern look covering her features.

 

"Honey, Fred Andrews was shot earlier this morning... he's okay — well, as okay as someone who just got shot can be — but hasn't woken up from the surgery yet."

 

But it was also all it took Betty to grab her phone and hit the first name in her contact's list.

 

But of course, nobody was picking up.

 

"He's probably at the hospital with his father, Betty," Alice told her gently, trying to ease her daughter's worries. "We can visit him after breakfast."

 

"Mom... I don't have time for breakfast! The father of my best friend almost died and you're telling me to have breakfast?!"

 

They visited him an hour or so later, and it hurt Betty to see Archie so desperate. Of course, Veronica was already there which didn't surprise the blonde — she knew about her two best friends' relationship and she was truly happy for them.

 

As they weren't allowed in the room, the two friends waited in the hospital's hallways, their eyes glued to the white wall across them as they sat next to each other.

 

"What if Fred doesn't wake up, B? God, I can't even imagine how hard it must be for Archie right now..."

 

"It's Fred Andrews we're talking about, he'll do anything for his son, including overcoming death. Honestly, V, I wouldn't be too worried about that." Betty paused as her thoughts drifted back to Jughead's letter, her heart sinking deeper in her chest but she immediately tried to focus on something else.

 

Her raven-haired friend nodded slowly and then took a short glance around. "Hey, do you know why Jughead isn't here already? Archie told me he called him twice but apparently, he didn't pick up." She waited before throwing her friend a small grin. "Was he _with_ you?"

 

Betty could hardly hold back tears this time as she shook her head. She forced a smile she knew her friend wouldn't buy, and kept her eyes on the wall. "He's... he's gone, Ronnie..." her voice cracked as she tried to speak.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

But the blonde remained silent.

 

Without asking further questions, Veronica simply wrapped her arms around her friend and convinced herself to not bombard her with questions yet.

 

The blonde sobbed into her shirt and held her tighter; she tried to speak but all that came out were tears and more tears. A few minutes later when she calmed down, Betty finally locked eyes with her best friend and handed her the folded piece of paper on which was engraved the words she still prayed to be a nightmare.

 

"God, Betty... I'm so sorry. I — I don't know what to tell you... that's horrible."

 

"It's fine, V..."

 

But deep down her heart, Betty was not fine — she almost wished someone would notice, but at the same time she didn't. Because the only person she really wanted to open up to wasn't here with her.

 

The next few weeks went almost too slow for Betty's taste. When they didn't have school, Archie spent half of his time at the hospital with Fred — who'd fallen into a coma. She didn't blame her redhead friend at all — she'd do the exact same thing if her own father was in the hospital.

 

As for Veronica, she hadn't spent proper time with her in almost a week — with her father coming back home, she knew her friend to be extremely busy and concerned about this new situation. The entire town was talking about them, and many absurd theories have been created. Some even believed Hiram to be involved in the Jason Blossom case.

 

She tried to focus on school and only that, but with Jughead gone, everything seemed so hard. He wasn't there to comfort her when she was breaking down, he wasn't there to tell her it was going to be alright when everything felt like too much. She missed him terribly, and she had no idea how she was supposed to cope. The scars on her palms could hardly ever heal as she always found herself enlarging the cuts — most of the time the gesture was unconscious, but sometimes it wasn't. And it was during those moments that she missed him the most. She just wished he could've talked to her... at least told her why he left.

 

 

—~—

 

 

People thought that once the murder would have been resolved, things in Riverdale would have gone back to the way they used to be. But that wasn't the case; things had changed more than expected. As though the innocence had flown away with Jason Blossom and the one who carelessly shot Fred Andrews.

 

One morning, as the Coopers sat around the table for breakfast, Betty received a text from Kevin Keller, telling her that "some shit is going down at county jail".

 

She immediately called him.

 

" _Apparently, Penelope Blossom attempted murder on FP Jones last night. Nobody knows how she sneaked in, but my dad thinks that she must've paid someone at the jail to get in._ "

 

At the mention of Jughead's dad, Betty couldn't help but began to feel anxious and distracted. "What? Does anybody know _why_ she tried to kill him?"

 

" _Nope, no one knows. And she won't say anything either. I'm telling you, Betty, this is some fucked up shit_."

 

"And... what about Cheryl?" She was almost surprised to hear the words coming out of her mouth, asking this question. She'd never really cared about the Blossom girl, — at least not until Hal revealed their disturbing connection. And even then, the amount of care she had for her was not the kind she'd have for a friend or a close family member. But in the end, they were related, and she sensed a sort of duty toward her, — even though she was convinced that if something like that would happen to her, Cheryl wouldn't give a single thought about it. "Do you know what will happen to her?"

 

She thought she heard Kevin snort.

" _Look, Betty, I know you're a sweet person and you like to care about people, but... Cheryl Bombshell Blossom, really?_ "

 

"I really don't expect you to understand, Kev, but I just have this feeling I can't shake off, you know?"

 

" _Actually no, I don't know. You know, sometimes I wonder how you manage to be so nice to everyone_."

 

She chuckled softly, — something she wouldn't have expected to do for a while.

 

He continued. " _Unbelievable, I made you laugh! Ronnie — um, nevermind_."

 

"What about Ronnie?"

 

" _Well, you know Veronica... she might've mentioned something about you not feeling exactly great... which is totally understandable, considering, you know._.."

 

Of course she'd know, it was all she could think about. Jughead and the fact that he was gone, the fact that she left him alone in the trailer that night, the fact that she didn't even _try_ to understand what he had to say. "Yeah."

 

" _Okay, well, what about we go out tonight, just the two of us like the good old time. What do you say?_ " Kevin suggested, a bit hesitant. " _Well not exactly like the good old time as Pop's is temporarily closed, but... you know_."

 

She was hesitant at first, but she knew that going out with a friend would probably be quite helpful for her mental health, so she agreed with a smile — even though he couldn't see her.

 

 

—~—

 

 

Besides the Halloween festival coming up this week, Betty didn't have much to keep her mind busy with. She had barely seen Archie or Veronica the past few days, but she understood their familial issues, so in the meantime, she had Kevin, who had been quite a good friend to her most of her life. Ever since he found out about Jughead, he spent most of his time trying to cheer her up and taking her out, hoping he could possibly take her mind off its usual worries.

 

The Cooper's House was disturbed one afternoon by the visit of a social worker asking them if they'd be willing to have Cheryl until they would find her a proper place to stay. Apparently, Cheryl had proof that the Coopers and the Blossoms were related, and of course, the social workers had to take it under consideration.

 

"It saddens me to say, but her family and ours have never really been on good terms..." Betty heard her mother say, obviously trying to convince the young woman that sharing a house with a Blossom would end in a bloodbath. "Plus I'm convinced that living with us would be the last thing Cheryl would want. You should think about finding someone a little more suitable than us, miss...?"

 

"Fitzgerald." The woman answered with a slightly too forced smile. "In that case, Mrs. Cooper, you might be surprised to hear that Cheryl was in fact very eager at the possibility of staying with your family. As for trying to find someone else willing to take her, nobody else in her extended family answered our calls. You're the last option before placing her in a youth home."

 

"Oh," Alice whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor.

 

"You know what, Mrs. Cooper? You don't have to decide now. Take the time to discuss with the other members of your family and call us tomorrow morning, okay?"

 

Despite Hal and Alice' hate for the Blossom family, Cheryl moved in with them the next morning. Polly was probably the most excited about the fact that she was going to stay with them, so she helped her settle down in the vacant extra room in the basement. But half an hour later, Alice forced her to rest and sent Betty instead, who reluctantly agreed.

 

"Why did you plead them to move in with us?" Betty asked with furrowed brows, a hint of anger in her voice as she tucked fresh and clean blankets in the redhead's temporary bed. "Your family hates mine, Cheryl, and mine hate yours."

 

"Should I remind you that your dearest sister Polly carries a precious cargo that appears to also belong to Jay-Jay, my dead brother?" Cheryl replied, her arms crossed as she watched the blonde do all the work. "Those babies are the closest thing to him I'll ever have, so I strongly suggest you don't try to push me away from them."

 

"Are you threatening me? After your mother tried to murder FP for no good reason?"

 

Cheryl scoffed, tilting her head once she noticed the small moon shaped scars on the blonde's palms. A lure of darkness danced on her face as she did, though it seemed to blend with a certain curiosity. "That makes me think," she began, her head suddenly looking up for her dark eyes to meet with Betty's. "How is Jughead?"

 

Her entire body tensed at the mention of his name — she had always found it odd how sometimes one little word could break someone. But now that it was happening to her, a part of her wished she'd never have put any importance in his name, or in him.

 

"How is he... taking it all?"

 

"He's..." Betty swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes to the floor. "He went to see his family back in Toledo." It was only then that she thought back to the homecoming dance after he found out that she'd knew her mother's plan all along but had never told him.

 

 _To think I was gonna pass moving to Toledo with my family for you,_ was what he told her that night. It had broken her heart back then, but what she was feeling now was much worse.

 

_Had she not been enough for him to stay?_

 

Cheryl nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving her face as though studying her every move. And when she finally noticed her clenched fists, the frown on her face deepened slightly. "Betty," she murmured, loud enough for the blonde to hear. Her eyes weren't leaving the clenched fists.

 

By the time Betty realised that Cheryl was staring at her hands, she could already feel blood on the tip of her fingers. "I-I have to go," she announced before hurrying out of the room and going back upstairs, straight to the bathroom.

 

_She wasn't good enough._

 

Tears were falling from her eyes as she locked the bathroom door behind her, leaning on the counter as she watched her blurred reflection in the mirror.

 

_She wasn't good enough._

 

She was almost sobbing as she uncurled her fingers and discovered the fresh wounds, her fingernails stained with her own blood.

 

_She wasn't good enough._

 

"I'm sorry..." she whispered to herself, knowing that there was nobody around to hear her. Her eyes closed as she poured warm water on her palms to clean her wounds, wincing at the burning pain coming from it.

 

She missed him more than anything.

 

 

—~—

 

 

It only took a few more days before the house was woken up by Polly's screams. They all knew what it meant: the babies were coming. They'd installed two lovely cradles in her room with everything necessary to welcome two babies home. Everything was ready, even Polly's luggage for the hospital.

 

Betty was the one to hold her sister's hand when she was pushing to release the babies. Polly squeezed her hand so tight, but she couldn't have cared less — her sister was giving birth to her first children and nothing could've been more important.

 

When the nurses announced Polly had given birth to two perfectly healthy babies of each sex, everyone was crying — even Cheryl, who begged them to let her assist the birthing session.

 

Polly named him after his father and chose the name Melody for her daughter.

 

"Jason would've been such a wonderful father," Cheryl hiccupped and the conversations skid to the Blossoms, only for a little while.

 

As for Betty, she tried to be happy for her sister, and she genuinely was, but to show it was harder. Every now and then a flashback of the horrible night Jughead left her appeared in her mind and she didn't know how to stop them from coming. But unlike what she would've expected, Cheryl out of anyone seemed to have noticed her bad habit of digging her fingers into her palms. And when it happened, she seemed to give the blonde a dead stare, which made her immediately stop what she was doing.

 

 

—~—

 

 

Betty Cooper somehow felt lonelier in these hospital halls, whether people were crying or laughing, screaming or smiling.

 

So she called him. Just like that, without thinking about it twice. He hadn't answered her texts and hadn't sent her any for that matter.

 

But of course, he didn't pick up. Instead, she left a vocal message.

 

"Hi, Juggie... um, I'm not... I'm not sure why I called but..." she paused, trying not to burst into tears. "I just wanted to say–"

 

" _Betty?_ "

 

Her heart clenched as she heard his voice, and for a few seconds, she'd forgotten how to breathe. He sounded so distant, so tired, and she wished more than anything he was next to her right at the moment.

 

"I'm sorry, Jughead, I'm so sorry that I wasn't good enough," she paused again, muffling back a sob as she covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm so sorry..."

 

And just as quick as she dialled his number, she hung up, her back sliding down against the wall she'd been leaning on during the call. She found herself sitting on the cold, hard floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

 

 

—~—

 

 

He still had his phone pressed against his ear, shaking fingers grasping it tightly. The ghost of her voice still lingering at the end of the line.

 

When he looked up, his little sister was standing in front of the doorway.

 

"Hey, JB." He smiled, but it was hiding a lot of what he truly felt inside.

 

And Jellybean seemed to have noticed. "You okay, Juggie?" She asked, plopping down on the couch next to him.

 

He held her against him and tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. "I always am," he answered.

 

She frowned, tilting her head. "Then why are you crying?"

 

And as soon as the words came out of her little mouth, Jughead felt a tear rolling down his burning cheeks.


End file.
